Best Little Whorehouse in Florida
by artgalmd
Summary: Lante adventure in Florida; Lulu looks for Luke in bordello, Dante follows
1. Chapter 1

Best Little Whorehouse In Florida

Chapter 1

Dante Falconeri pulled up to the entrance of the bordello in Florida that his father, Sonny Corrinthos, had mentioned, his eyes analyzing every little detail about its features and its surroundings. The establishment was located in a seedy neighborhood with boarded-up buildings, derelicts sprawled in the alleys and houses with torn screen doors and broken gates.

It had white-washed walls and a french door that was trimmed in black. As he stepped out of his car, a swarm of teenage kids approached him, taking in his red Camaro with its dark gray interior.

"Holy Shit. Mister, that's a Camaro," the kid said in awe, taking in the silver aluminum-painted wheels and its grey interior, "What's under the hood?"

"V8," Dante answered, as the kid nearly salivated, continuing to ogle over the fire-red exterior. Thanks, Ronnie, Dante thought to himself, shaking his head at his conversation with his partner and the nondescript car that he had requested. This classic was bound to get attention.

"Way cool," the kid replied, one tattooed arm with a snake coiled from his shoulder to his wrist reaching toward it.

"How much?" Dante asked, halting the kid's advance and using his arm to stop the kid from touching the Camaro.

"Thousand bucks," the kid told Dante, dropping his hand and folding his arms across his chest.

"A thousand? Are you out of your freaking mind?" Dante fired back, "I'll give you fifty bucks."

"Fifty? I wouldn't wipe the bird shit off of your shoe for that," the kid answered in disgust, "Five hundred bucks. Otherwise, this fine piece of art will find itself all over Florida."

"That's extortion," Dante replied, nodding his head negatively, and pulling a fifty from his wallet, "Fifty bucks. Take it or leave it. And in one piece, kid. Not a single hubcap missing."

"Fifty? Man, Mister do you know what they charge in that place," he told Dante, pointing to the bordello, "You can't get five minutes for that. Fine," the kid answered, grabbing the fifty-dollar bill.

"You know who runs this place?" Dante questioned the kid, his eyes narrowing, as he took in the scrawny kid before him, as he stuffed the fifty in his pocket.

"Maybe. But, it'll cost you," the kid told Dante, his eyes squinting with greed, "Another fifty bucks."

* * *

><p>Lulu Spencer had found herself in quite a few predicaments in her lifetime. An unexpected pregnancy, followed by an abortion, a crazy knife-wielding ex-boyfriend and hostage to a homicidal psychotic man who just happened to be brother to one of Port Charles' most affluent businessman. But, not one of those incidents had ever required the get-up she found herself attired in at the moment. A pink and black lacy number, with a brassiere that at the moment was being tied tightly together by the woman that Lulu had met just a short time earlier.<p>

"Why couldn't you just leave when I gave you the chance?" she said, scowling, as she laced the brassiere, pushing Lulu's small breasts upward, causing them to peek out over the trimmed black lace of the brassiere top.

"I told you...I'm here for Luke Spencer," Lulu reminded, confident that this woman knew her father.

"I told you I haven't seen your Luke Spencer," the woman insisted, "And if you know what's good for you, I wouldn't go mentioning his name around Javier again."

"Why? He was here, wasn't he?" Lulu prodded, her eyes carrying a look of worry.

"Luke Spencer and Javier aren't the kind of men you want to associate with, angel," the woman assured Lulu, "They're bad news. You don't belong here."

"I'm not leaving without my...without Luke Spencer," Lulu persisted, "You could help. Just tell me where he is."

"Yeah, right? And have Javier climbing down my throat. Don't think so. Besides, as I've already told you, I never heard of any Luke Spencer. Angel, if I were you," the dark-haired woman informed, "I'd start figuring a way out of this mess you're in. Javier doesn't like to share his girls and you, angel, he is not going to simply give away."

"I'm not one of his girls," Lulu answered, nervously playing with the laces of the brassiere, "I only said that to get you away from him, so that we could talk. I have no intention of-"

"Then, God help you, angel," the woman replied, "because, like it or not, he owns you now and Javier isn't one to just let something of his walk out that door. Especially, one that looks like you."

"I'm not staying. Just let me leave," Lulu demanded, trying to push her way past the woman, "I'll just walk away."

"I can't do that. I'm sorry, angel," the woman told her, her eyes sad, as she looked Lulu over, "Look, I'll try to keep the crazy ones away. Find you someone who's nice."

"I'm not turning tricks," Lulu yelled, as the door started to close, "My boyfriend will find me. He will."

"That's what they all say, angel. No one comes," she said sadly, brushing the strands from Lulu's forehead.

"Let me guess. You had some kind of falling out? Sweetie, he ain't coming for you. Not here."

"Dante will come. He's a-"

"Look, angel, us girls, we look out for each other. We're family. I'll see what I can do. Can't make any promises, though. Maybe I can get Javier to give you a few days," she said, as she started to close the door, "By the way, I'm Gabby."

* * *

><p>Dante inhaled sharply, his eyes focused on his surroundings, as he entered the bordello. While the exterior was encased by the run-down neighborhood, the interior was the opposite. The furnishings were of dark mahogany wood, with rich, red leather. Duvet sofas in intimate corners flanked by large plants and shadowed with low interior lighting were placed strategically throughout the establishment.<p>

He glanced about the room, searching for her. His eyes took note of the scantily clad women standing at the bar, two hanging over a businessman with a handle-bar mustache and hands that mauled the women on either side of him.

This was not the kind of place that Lulu should be in, Dante thought to himself, his face turning angry, as he watched the man openly fondle the girls.

A note.

A damn note was all she left, Dante fumed, as he scanned the room, looking for Lulu.

Where the hell was she?

"What's your pleasure?" a plump red-head asked, approaching Dante in a dark-blue baby doll and red heels that allowed her to tower over him.

"I'm looking for someone," Dante replied, uncomfortably, as she used one perfectly manicured fingernail and trailed it down his chest.

"Well, you've found someone," she grinned, pulling him toward the bar.

"I don't-" Dante said, stopping her and removing her hand from his chest, "I prefer blondes."

"Blondes? Really," she answered with a huff, "I could put on a wig."

"You're too tall," Dante added.

"I'm too-"

"Look, I'm just not interested, " Dante replied, with a smile,showing his dimples, as he walked toward the bar, "Beer, please."

"You turned down, Maisey. She's one of our favorites. You aren't from around here, are you?" the dark-haired girl questioned with a smile, as she reached the bottom of the stairs and sashayed toward him, "I'm Gabriella. But, you can call me Gabby."

"Look, I'm not-"

"Interested? Yeah, I heard. You prefer blondes," she noted curiously, moving beside him at the bar, "What'll it take to change your mind?"

"I need some information," Dante told her, lowering his voice.

"Welcome Center is out the door and about ten blocks to your right. We don't sell, information here, honey."

"What do you sell?" Dante questioned, taking the beer from the bartender and tilting his head back. He allowed the cold liquid to calm his nerves, before waiting for her answer.

"Depends what you're willing to spend, honey?" she said with a sly grin, her hand slowly trailing down his arm.

Dante brushed her hand from his body, his eyes steel and focused, "I'm looking for a blonde."

* * *

><p>Shit, Lulu thought, as she tried to pry the window open for the tenth time.<p>

Sealed shut.

She wrung her hands together, pacing back and forth over the frayed rug beneath her feet. She tried the door once again.

Locked.

Defeated, she sat upon the bed, glancing down at the embroidered bedspread with pale blue flowers.

When she had decided to look for her father, she had known that it wouldn't be easy. That she would have to convince him to come home, but this...wearing this...well, that had never occurred to her.

She thought of the note she'd left for Dante, the few scrawled words that left no trail to her location.

"Oh God, why didn't I tell Dante where I was going?"

Because he would have followed you, her subconscious answered.

"I'm not helpless," Lulu yelled to the empty room, "I can do this," she said confidently, moving once again to the window, "I just need something to pry open-"

She heard a knock and turned toward the door, her heart pounding in her chest.

What the hell was she going to do?

Well, she knew what she wasn't going to do, she thought, walking quietly toward the door and reaching for the bible on the nearby nightstand.

* * *

><p>"We don't have any blondes," the man stated, as Dante felt Gabby stiffen beside him and he turned to face the intruder.<p>

"I have any number of girls that I'm sure would provide you with whatever you need," the man insisted, in a monotone voice. He had short, dark hair and eyes that were a cold gray. Eyes that drilled into you, as if a surgical instrument, poking and prodding until they found what they were looking for.

"I'm partial to blondes," Dante repeated, "If you can't-" he said rising from his stool at the bar and throwing a large bill on the table.

"What about the new girl?" Gabby suggested, as Javier sent her a look that would cause a snake to recoil in terror.

"New girl?" Dante asked, while averting his eyes and pretending to be interested in the label wrapped around his beer bottle, "Is she a blonde?"

"She's not ready," Javier answered, his eyes cold, as he focused on Gabby.

"But, earlier you said-"

"How much?" Dante asked, his expression determined, "If the price is right?"

"She's green. I'm thinking of taking her under my wing," Javier informed Dante, "showing her the ropes."

I'll show you some ropes, Dante thought to himself, raging internally, "One thousand dollars."

"No. Look," Javier said, standing firm, "Mr.-"

"Pirelli. Dominic Pirelli," Dante replied, his voice just as firm and demanding, "I won't take no for an answer. Take it or leave it."

"You got cash," Javier asked, as Dante slapped the remaining bills from his wallet onto the bar.

"Where's the girl?" Dante demanded, as Javier picked up the cash and started counting, "Top of the stairs, third door on the left. Gabby, here, will show you the way."

Dante turned to Gabby, who reluctantly led him up the stairs, halting when she knew that they were out of Javier's sight.

"Third door, right?" Dante asked, walking toward it, when Gabby stayed him with her hand.

"Who are you?"

"I thought I already answered that," Dante told her, a bit on edge. Lulu was behind that door.

"Dominic Pirelli? If you're just a client, I'm Mother Theresa," she said sarcastically, folding her hands beneath her chest and causing them to spill over her top, "What's this girl to you?"

"Nothing. Just something to pass the time," Dante told her, flashing his dimples, "I'm just looking for a blonde."

"You better be telling the truth, Pirelli. We protect our own," Gabby informed him, "If she has so much as a scratch on her-"

"She won't. You have my word," Dante promised in return, dropping all humor and becoming serious, "I won't hurt her."

"Second door on the right," Gabby told Dante, as he raised an eyebrow, "Second?"

"Word of advice. Javier isn't to be trusted. If that's your girl in there, get her out of here. This ain't no place for angels," she told him, as she reached for the key from between her breasts and unlocked the door.

"You'll only have a few minutes. There is another stairwell that leads out the back."

Dante waited until she had descended the stairs before raising his hand and knocking, praying that the girl that answered was in fact, Lulu.

Impatient, he turned the knob and pushed the door inward, stepping slowly into the room. His eyes took in her pink and black brassiere and the lace garters attached to her matching panties. She looked amazing, he thought, just as the book in her hands came crashing over his head.

A bible. In a whorehouse.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Dante? What are you-" Lulu exclaimed, closing the door and dropping to her knees, "Oh My God. Honey, are you all right?"

"Jesus, Lulu you hit me," Dante replied, stunned, cradling his head with his hand, "I feel a bump. Is it swollen? Ouch."

"Oh, stop," Lulu laughed, as she examined the top of his head, "It's just a little bump. You'll live."

"It'll feel a lot better if you kiss it," Dante pleaded, as Lulu rolled her eyes.

"You are unbelievable," she told him, smiling, as she leaned over and placed a kiss upon his head.

Relieved that Dante was fine, Lulu rose to her feet, placed her hands on her hips and glared down at him.

"You followed me," Lulu told him, exasperated, "I can't BELIEVE that you followed me."

"I was worried about you," Dante replied, his eyes getting a really good look at the clothing, or lack of, on her body at the moment. He stood, reached for the Bible in her hands and placed it on the nearby stand.

"Baby, what are you doing here?" Dante asked, taking her hands in his.

Lulu pulled her hands from his grasp, turned toward the bed and and sat upon it, facing him.

"My father's here, Dante. I know he is. I'm just a few steps behind him."

Dante ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He understood her need to find her father. He'd gone in search of his when he was just a kid. But, this place, the element downstairs- that scared the hell out of him. Getting angry with her wasn't going to solve anything. It certainly wasn't going to get her to walk out that door with him. But, when he thought about-

"Did you find him?" Dante questioned, sitting beside her and trying really hard to concentrate when she sat beside him, in nothing but her underwear. Pink sexy underwear, at that.

"Not yet. But, I will. I'm getting close, Dante."

Dante saw the sadness in her eyes, the desperation in the simple movement of her hand. It killed him to see what her father's abandonment was doing to her.

"Did you pick this out just for me?" Dante grinned, while his hand found a delicate bow and ran his fingers along its ribbons.

Lulu wiped the tears from her face and turned to Dante, her eyes alight with humor.

"I did," Lulu answered, joking, "If you play your cards right-"

"Lulu Spencer?" Dante mocked, pretending to be outraged, "I'm not that easy."

"What makes you think I want to work for it?" Lulu laughed, rising to her feet, as Dante reached for her hand.

"I'm worried about you, Lulu," Dante told her, his tone dropping its cockiness and turning serious, "You don't know what kind of fire you are playing with here, baby."

"I'm well aware of what kind of fire, Dante," Lulu teased, as Dante's expression stayed serious.

"I can take care of myself, Dante," Lulu answered, trying to reassure him. She dropped down beside him and kissed him softly on the lips, "I'm a Spencer."

"And you think Luke is here? How can you be sure, Lulu?" Dante asked her, as his thumb caressed her cheek,"Just how much closer do you need to get?"

"It's not what you think? I'm handling it," Lulu said, confidently, as Dante's eyes continued to take in every stitch of her outfit, "Maxie's dresses at Crimson have less."

"I don't care what Maxie wears, Lulu," Dante told her truthfully, his gaze predatory, "You don't know what kind of place this is. The kind of men that come here. Men like Anthony Zacchara."

"And you do?" Lulu asked, suddenly realizing that there was a lot about Dante's time with the Zaccharas that he hadn't shared with her, "Did you?"

"No," Dante denied emphatically, "But, that doesn't mean the Zaccharas didn't. This place Lulu, baby it's not for you."

"I'm not green, Dante," Lulu told him, standing once more, and pointing toward the bed, "I understand what THIS place is. It's a brothel. Women sell themselves here. My father-"

"Is a customer here, Lulu," Dante explained, running his hand through his hair in frustration, "And God knows what else his hands are tied up in. That guy downstairs, Lulu, he doesn't care that Luke Spencer is an alcoholic, that his daughter is looking for him. He only cares about how many tricks his girls make, about the size of the wad in his wallet."

"I told you. I know what I'm doing," Lulu said defensively.

"No, Lulu," Dante fired back, grabbing her arm, "you don't. You're flying by the seat of your pants. Panties at the moment. Very hot panties. But, dammit, Lulu-"

"This could work, Dante," Lulu replied, retracting her arm and pleading with him for understanding, "You'll see. He'll hear that I'm working here and-"

"Absolutely not. You are not going to put yourself as bait," Dante yelled, shaking his fist, his face contorted with anger, "I won't let you."

"I don't recall asking permission, Dante!" Lulu yelled back, "I can take care of myself."

"Right, because you're doing such a fine job of it at the moment, Lulu," Dante answered in frustration," "What would you have done if it wasn't me that came through that door, huh? That book," Dante said, irate, "it would not have protected you from the men that frequent this place."

"I'm not weak, Dante. My Dad taught me everything he knows," Lulu said softly, realizing Dante was coming from a place of fear.

"I never said you were weak, Lulu. Baby, you're the strongest person I know, but-"

"Then, trust me," Lulu said softly, moving closer, "I can do this."

"It's not you I don't trust, Lulu," Dante answered, lowering his voice, "It's what's outside that door."

"I can't leave, Dante. Not when I'm so close," Lulu whispered, tears welling in her eyes, "I just can't."

"I know, baby," Dante replied, pulling Lulu into his arms, "I just don't want anything to happen to you."

"I told you-"

"I know what you told me. I'm telling you," Dante said stubbornly, looking into her eyes, "I'm not leaving you. Not here. Not in this place," he told her, kissing her lips, "Not ever."

* * *

><p>"Gabby," Javier beckoned, motioning for her to join him, "Come talk to me."<p>

She recognized that tone, a voice laced with bitter sweetness, the calm before the storm.

"You know something," he cajoled, his hand stroking her long, dark hair. He grabbed a handful, tugging at the strands until Gabby eyes welled and tears threatened to spill forth, the pain ripping through her skull, "Talk to me everything you know about Dominic Pirelli. What's his connection to the new girl?"

"To the blonde? She never mentioned his name. I swear," she whispered, attempting to placate him, "I've never seen him before. Probably, just some rich kid with a silver spoon spending Daddy's money."

"I've seen him somewhere. I know it."

"He said he wasn't from around here. I wouldn't lie to you, Javier," Gabby replied, desperately.

"Good. I like money," Javier said, honestly, brushing a few dark strands from her forehead and pushing her off of him, "Lots of it. Keep him happy. Give him whatever he wants."

"Including the blonde?" Gabby asked, confused. Javier didn't like to share anything, especially the new flavor.

"Not the blonde. She's off-limits. Give her a job down here. Hostess," Javier ordered, as Gabby nodded in agreement, "Let everyone know that she's hands-off. Strictly for show."

"I don't understand," Gabby questioned, as Javier smiled, coldly, "I don't pay you to understand, Gabby. You're on a need to know basis. Right now, you don't need to know shit. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," Gabby answered him, turning her back on him and walking toward the bar, "Two beers, please."

"Oh, and Gabby," Javier added, as she reluctantly turned toward him, "Keep your eyes and ears open."

Javier Del Toro waited for Gabby to ascend the stairs, before placing the call and waiting for the caller to answer.

"Mr. Spencer, you've been avoiding my calls," Javier told him, "I don't like to be ignored. I want my merchandise. I don't care about your source. You are running out of time. I'm not a patient man, Mr. Spencer. Tomorrow? Tomorrow, is just fine. I'm glad you see things my way. Gabby? No, I have someone new in mind for you."

* * *

><p>"What are you thinking?" Lulu asked Dante, his eyes downcast and his hands folded together, "I'm trying to figure out how the hell we're going to get out of this mess."<p>

"You could just walk out. That girl, Gabby, she could sneak you out the back," Lulu suggested, as Dante looked back at her, flabbergasted.

"No. I'm not leaving without you, Lulu."

"I can't get information on my father's whereabouts if you are hanging around. You'll blow my cover," Lulu informed him, completely flummoxed.

"I'm not leaving," Dante repeated, his tone adamant, as he leaned closer, his eyes focused intently on her.

"You are impossible," Lulu replied, softly, "What are we supposed to do now?"

"We aren't going to do anything," Dante promised her, pulling her close, "at least not outside this door," he told her, kissing the top of her head, "Maybe if we put our heads together we can come up with something."

"You're trying to take advantage of me," Lulu grinned, as Dante lowered her to the bed, his hands toying with the laces of her lingerie, "Is it working?"

"Maybe," Lulu smiled, flipping Dante to his back, "But, I usually like to work on top."

Lulu leaned over and kissed him, her body straddling him, as Dante's hands roamed over the back of her thighs, moving upward, gripping her bottom.

His fingers fumbled over the clasps and ties of the brassiere, a frustrated look upon his face, as Lulu unbuttoned his shirt, parting it and placing her mouth upon his skin.

Neither one of them heard the doorknob turn, until it was too late and she was standing inside the room.

"Do you have any idea the trouble you have put me in? Who the hell are you?" Gabby questioned, as Lulu jumped from the bed and Dante quickly buttoned his shirt.

"Here," Gabby offered, tossing a beer to both Dante and Lulu, "Drink up. You're going to need it. Javier is not someone to be messed with."

"Now, what the hell are you doing here," Gabby asked, "and what does it have to do with Luke Spencer?" she threatened, turning in Lulu's direction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Javier Del Toro leaned back against a velvet-lined chair, the gears in his head rifling through its stored information, trying to figure out where he'd seen Mr. Pirelli.

He was good with faces. Could spot a rat as soon as he stepped in his place, or opened his mouth. There were a lot of rats in Florida, each slimy, greedy son of a bitch, waiting in line to take Javier down, to get their hands on his latest treasure. Not one of them had succeeded.

Javier smiled, a cold calculated jubilation upon his face, as he surveyed all that surrounded him. Two girls were serving drinks to a table of businessmen at the far left, their hands roaming over the girls with familiarity, one placing his hand on a young girl's ass, eliciting a response from her, as she threw a cold drink into his face.

Javier was there before the seated man had time to lift his hand, reaching for a towel from the bar and handing it to the businessman, "My apologies. Candi is new," Javier informed the patron, his eyes darting to Candi's freckled face, the fear that crossed her features, "She's still in training."

"I pay good money here, Mr. Del Toro. Money I could spend up the road, at Flanagan's Place."

"Go ahead, spend your money there, Mr. Carabella," Javier said, a glacial expression on his face, as he smoothed his hand through Candi's brown hair, his fingers separating the strands, "When you're finished, come see me. I can recommend a good doctor."

"I like your girls, Mr. Del Toro," the man replied, eyeballing the newest, her long, brown hair loose about her shoulders, "Name the price."

"Conley, pour our friend here a drink. Scotch," Javier suggested, directing his patron to the bar, "I'm going to have a word with my girl and we'll discuss the cost of our services."

The man walked toward the bar and Javier's grip on Candi grew tighter, as he turned toward her, his anger evident on his face, "If a man wants to put his hands on your ass," Javier said menacingly, "You let him. That's what I pay you for," he ordered.

"His hand was hurting me. I heard that he leaves bruises," Candi whispered, as Javier's expression never wavered, "I don't pay you to question the client's needs, Candi. I just expect you to service them. Now," he told her, pushing her toward the bar and next to the client in question.

Javier jotted a figure down on a napkin, showed it to the client who nodded and then destroyed it with the flame from a lighter. The patron stood, downed his drink in one gulp and pulled the girl to the stairs.

Candi had only been here a few weeks, an innocent, Javier thought, scanning her athletic legs, the slimness of her waist and her small breasts. In time, she would learn to conform, to play the schoolgirl when needed, the dominatrix, or any other thing or person the client wanted. Soon she would own the client, just as Javier owned her.

Javier heard the bell jingle above the door, signaling that another guest had arrived. He smiled recognizing the man instantly, noting the cut of his suit, the high-quality fabric and the expensive shoes upon his feet. A regular with cash to spend, a wallet that was never empty. Javier sent a look to Maisie, letting her know that this patron was all hers and to keep him interested and happy. Javier wanted his patrons to come back for more, to be so enraptured by his girls that they dropped the cash in their wallets, as easily as they dropped their pants.

Especially those in high authority. Like the mayor, Javier thought, as he smiled in greeting. It paid to have these special clients at his disposal and under his thumb. You never knew when you needed to call in a favor and having a little insurance was always a good thing.

"Take him to the Blue Room, Maisie," Javier instructed her, knowing fully well that the room was under constant video surveillance, "It's good to see you again, Mayor Thompson."

"Your usual," Maisie said coquettishly, drawing a tube of red lipstick from her cleavage and rubbing it over her lips, as she led the local mayor up the stairs, down the hall and into a room on the far left, "Uh, yes," the mayor responded, reaching for the zipper of his pants, as she pulled him into the room and closed the door behind them.

* * *

><p>"I've never seen this man before in my life," Lulu lied, setting the beer on a nearby table, adjusting her bustier and attaching her garter to her stocking.<p>

"Haven't you heard of knocking," Dante told Gabby, while he drew the last button into its eyehole and tightened his belt, pulling Lulu's back against him, "Things were just about to get interesting. Now, unless you were planning on joining us-"

"I'm not buying it, Mr. Pirelli," Gabby informed him, "and neither is Javier. He has eyes and ears everywhere. He's already suspicious. You didn't even glance at the other girls."

"What can I say? I prefer blondes," Dante answered, his eyes roaming over Lulu, as his hands wrapped around her and his lips sucked on the skin of her shoulder, "The clock is ticking, Gabby and I want my money's worth. Now, I didn't pay for an audience, but-"

Dante felt Lulu's elbow in his ribs and heard her outraged gasp, as they heard a commotion outside the door and Gabby turned toward it, opening the door and spotting one of the other girl's leaving an adjacent room, holding the broken strap of her Pinot Noir, as mascara covered the underside of her eyes and dark bruise appeared on her wrists. A man pushed her aside, adjusted his tie and spotted Lulu across the hall, "Who do we have here?"

"Is she all right?" Dante asked, as Gabby silenced him with a look, turning toward the other patron.

"She's taken," Gabby informed him, directing her gaze back toward Dante and pulling the door closed, "Remember what I said, Mr. Pirelli. Eyes and ears."

"Do we have a problem?" Javier asked, ascending the stairs, his eyes moving from Candi and her patron to the slightly ajar door, "Mr. Pirelli, Miss Lulu?" Javier said, pushing the door open, "Was Gabby not to your liking, Mr. Pirelli? If you give me a few minutes, I can arrange another girl. Perhaps, Candi? Miss Lulu is not-"

"I didn't pay for Gabby. I'm happy with this one," Dante answered, protectively, drawing Lulu back into his arms, his hands stroking the skin of her forearm, before settling upon her wrists, "We were interrupted-"

"Interrupted? My apologies, Mr. Pirelli, but I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. You can't have-"

"I'm sure that we could come to some agreement-" Dante added, as a door opened and the red-headed Maisie from earlier exited, reapplying her lipstick, as she looked Dante over, head to toe, "Mm. If she can't handle-"

"Don't you have tables downstairs, Maisie?" Javier demanded, as a reluctant Maisie, stormed past him, descending the stairs. A few seconds later, the mayor exited the room, his suit impeccable, his gaze suspicious, as he took in the audience.

"So, next Tuesday, then," Javier suggested, motioning the mayor downstairs, "Stop at the bar. Conley will pour you a drink before you leave."

"Now, as I was saying, Mr. Pirelli," Javier continued, his stone-faced expression directed at Dante, "This one is not in the market at the moment. She's quite special to me."

"She's special to me, too. I prefer blondes," Dante replied, trying to keep his tone of voice from betraying his heated emotions, as he stared back at Javier, his arms still holding her, "You can't blame a guy for trying."

"No, I suppose not, Mr. Pirelli," Javier said, suspiciously, his eyes locked on Dante's every movement, as he reluctantly released Lulu, stepping out from behind her and reaching for her hand, "Miss Lulu. I really hope that we can do this again. Without interruptions," Dante grinned, a cocky smile upon his face, as he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed them across her skin.

"Um. I...I'm afraid that I'm just a hostess here," Lulu responded, tingles rushing up her spine, as she felt Dante's lips upon her skin. It had been so long. Months since they'd had a moment together. Every nerve in her body was screaming for his attention.

"That's too bad. But, hey, if you can serve a drink as sexy as you rock this outfit," Dante smiled, "I'd gladly park my ass on one of those barstools downstairs."

"What exactly are you doing in Florida, Mr. Pirelli?" Javier asked him, beckoning him, his eyes drifting over Lulu's startled expression, her rosy cheeks, as he closed the door firmly.

"I'm in Acquisitions," Dante informed Javier, as the owner walked beside him, down the stairs and toward the bar.

"Acquisitions? What company?" Javier questioned, as Dante raised an eyebrow, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I needed to bring my resume. I'm freelance at the moment. Why?"

"No reason. I just like to get to know our new clients," Javier asked, as Dante pretended to be suspicious, "Well, I like to frequent a place that requires anonymity. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Not at all. I respect a man with secrets. We pride ourselves on our discretion, Mr. Pirelli. Believe me, your secrets are safe with me and my girls."

"A man can't be too careful," Dante answered, as Javier walked him toward the bar, "Conley, pour our friend here a drink," Javier ordered, as he watched Gabby slip toward the back.

"I could really use the men's room about now. Where is it?" Dante questioned, as Javier directed him toward the back, "Bottom of the stairs. You'll find a hallway. It's the first door on your right."

"I'll be right back."

"Take your time," Javier told his newest client, sure that he was taking Gabby up on her offer. Javier waited until Dante was out of earshot, before leaning toward the bar and issuing an order to his bartender, "I need that information on Dominic Pirelli. If he checks out, our payday may be closer than we thought."

* * *

><p>Lulu Spencer paced back and forth, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been terrified that Javier would make Dante and that his safety and her own would be in jeopardy, not to mention that her pursuit of her father would have been compromised.<p>

She walked toward the mirror, reached for a tube of lipstick from her bureau and applied the pink gloss to her lips. She studied her image, the startling vision of the woman before her, the pink underwear, the stilettos, her breasts pushed up so high, she thought they'd burst from the brassiere- it shook her.

She ran her hands over the tiny bows that lined the brassiere, smoothed them down the black striped corset, until they reached her silk panties and the garters that attached to her stockings. This was so far out of her comfort zone, she thought, turning in the mirror and getting a sideways view.

"Don't let me stop you-" Dante grinned, as Lulu nearly jumped, startled by his voice, but relieved that it was him, "You scared me," she told him, clutching her chest.

"We need to get out of here, Lulu," Dante said softly closing the door and sliding a chair beneath the doorknob, before walking toward her. His eyes glanced about the room, scanning for any sign of cameras. When he was confident, that they were truly alone, he pulled her closer, memorizing every exposed inch of her, smiling as his hands trailed along her waist, dropping to the soft skin of her thigh.

"What are you doing?" Lulu whispered, as Dante played with the snap of her garter, his thumb rubbing against her skin.

"Getting my money's worth," Dante answered, with a cocky grin, pushing her toward the bed, "I have been thinking about this for hours."

"About?"

"This fantasy that has been running around in my head," Dante groaned, his body reacting to the brush of Lulu's leg against his thigh.

"What kind of fantasy?"

"You. Me. This outfit," Dante answered, his hands and his eyes exploring every stitch and seam.

"What if-"

"I placed that chair in front of the door. Javier thinks I'm occupied at the moment," Dante grinned, as his hand propelled Lulu onto the bed, "Just not with a leggy blonde." She tried to scoot toward the top, but Dante held her immobile, her bottom pressed against the edge of the mattress, her legs and feet dangling over the edge.

"I don't think-"

Dante dropped to his knees, reached for her legs, his hand gliding over one long leg, lifting it and placing it on his shoulder, "You are so freaking beautiful."

Lulu's hands gripped the comforter, her fingers locked on the fabric, as Dante lowered his head and kissed her. A soft caress of his lips against her right thigh, the touch causing goosebumps to erupt upon her skin and a sigh to escape her mouth.

He moved lower, his lips brushing against her calves, bending one leg and teasing her foot with his tongue, tickling the soft skin, before opening his mouth and drawing in one dainty toe, watching her expression, the complete rapture on her face as he drew it into the warm recesses of his mouth, sucking on it.

Lulu struggled to breathe, her back arching off the bed, her hands pulling the comforter from the bed, the ball of fabric tight within her hands, as Dante continued his assault, reaching for her other leg and working his way from her ankles to her calves, up further toward the soft skin of her inner thigh, before parting her thighs further and dropping his head between her legs.

She closed her eyes in anticipation, anxious to feel his lips against her skin, his fingers inside her. Perspiration dotted her brow, as she felt his mouth press against the fabric of her panties, moisture appearing whether from his mouth, or her body's own response to his touch.

"Dante," she moaned, as she felt one finger slip past the thin barrier, the digit surrounded by her pulsating walls, as he moved it slowly. In. Out. In. Out.

"Oh God," she whispered, as his mouth soon joined it, his tongue darting inside, his thumb pressing tightly, as his finger and mouth worked in tandem, increasing their motions, as her breathing quickened and her body shivered.

"Please, not here. Not like this," Lulu cried out softly, her eyes pleading with his, as her hands released the comforter and his darted to the bed.

"You want me to stop?" Dante asked in surprise, his motions slowing down, his smoky eyes locked on hers, as he waited for her response. It would kill him, but he'd do it.

"Not on the bed," Lulu begged, "Please," she whispered.

Dante removed her legs from his shoulders, pulled her into his arms and walked backwards toward a chair in the far corner, dropping into it.

Lulu's arms wrapped around his neck, as he wrestled with his belt, unleashing it, as one of her hands reached for the zipper, the palm molded to him, his size increasing against her, as she slowly opened it and his member sprung against the soft skin of her palm.

She wrapped her hand around him, her finger brushing against the head, a single drop appearing, as Dante swore beneath his breath, finding it difficult to concentrate, as she continued her exploration, her hand gently rising and falling, her thumb brushing against the tip with each movement to the top.

Dante was struggling, her every motion, causing his body to quiver and his cock to harden painfully, as he rocked against her, his hand reaching downward, finding the soft silk of her panties and tugging the fabric, stretching it until it broke and pushing it to the side, as he thrust one digit inside. He watched her eyes close, her mouth parted, as he moved inside her, the digit stroking the dampness of her inner walls, his eyes focused on her broken gasps, the grip of her hand on his shoulder and the friction of her soft skin wrapped around him. Her breasts teased him, peeking above the lace of her brassiere with each upward lift of her hips and each subsequent downward fall. Her breathing was becoming more erratic her hand falling from his member and holding tightly to the side of his head, its fingers interlaced with the thick locks of his dark hair, as he guided himself inside, the head disappearing within.

She rocked against him, sheathing him further, until he was full hilt, her cry muffled by his lips pressed to hers, as he held her tightly, grinding his hips, one hand pressed against her back, while the other pulled at the fabric of her brassiere, freeing one breast, and capturing it between his teeth, drawing its swollen pebble into his mouth, as she rose and fell upon him, her hands locked around his neck, her soft cries a whispered breath against one ear. They rocked against each other, their movements soon becoming faster, Lulu's gasps an echo to Dante's moans. They held tightly to each other, perspiration marking their forehead and cheeks and the pupil's of their eyes widening. Lulu cried out first, her body collapsing against Dante, as he gently lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers, clutching her head against him, as he shuddered, his body jerking against her, as his release took him over the edge.

They sat motionless, the only sound in the room that of their ragged breathing. Lulu's forehead was pressed to Dante's, her fingers still buried within his hair, her legs still wrapped around him, his cock still entrenched within her. Even now, she could feel every twitch of him, the aftershock a tantalizing pleasure, teasing her inner walls.

Dante's lips brushed against her mouth, sucking her lower lip and pulling it within his damp recesses, his tongue sliding against her teeth and coaxing her to open. She obliged and his tongue darted inside, every stroke a shock to her nerves, every caress a delicious shiver to her senses, as he slowly lifted his hips and she sighed, meeting each rise with a counter movement of her own. It was a slow dance, a choreographed ballet of two bodies brushing against each other, their glistening skin, trembling, their fingers locked together, as they moved as one, shuddering as the second time washed over them like the cool streams of a trickling waterfall. It was a dance of elegance, rather than the frenzied rush of the salsa; its resulting euphoria, equally the same.

"I missed us," Lulu said softly against his ear, pressing her mouth to his neck, "Since the intervention-"

"Ssh. Lulu, it's all right," Dante promised, his hand brushing a few wet strands from her forehead, his lips placing a soft kiss upon her mouth.

"I don't understand why he's running," Lulu cried, "He knows that I won't judge him."

"Oh, baby. He's probably judging himself," Dante replied, stroking the soft skin of her arm, "What happens if you find him. If after you open your heart to him, he simply turns and walks away?"

"That won't happen. My Dad loves me. He always had. In his own way," she shared, moving off of him and adjusting her clothing, "You just don't understand our connection."

"Help me to understand," Dante asked, as Lulu pulled on a pair of black satin panties and looked at him with curiosity, turning her back to him, trying to figure out how to describe her relationship with her father to the man she loved.

"My father is restless," Lulu explained, directing her gaze back to Dante who was sliding his belt into the loop of his pants, his expression one of love and concern.

"He could never stay in one place for very long," Lulu continued, as Dante listened.

"I can count on one hand the number of birthday parties he attended as I grew up," Lulu told him, her eyes filled with sorrow, "and I'd still have fingers to spare."

"Lucky had these grand adventures to reflect on...memories with Foster, my Mom and Dad on the run. I had snapshots."

"It affected me. I rebelled," Lulu answered with a half-hearted attempt at a smile.

"Piercings. Tattoos," Dante grinned, as Lulu rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"No. I felt invisible in my family. So, I made myself heard."

"Heard?" Dante asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and motioning for Lulu to join him.

"I got into all kinds of scrapes," Lulu shared, sitting on Dante's lap, his hand resting against her thigh, a calming, gentle touch, as she placed one arm around his shoulder.

"What kind of scrapes?" Dante asked, thinking that she probably got roaring drunk and stole Edward's Bentley, racing it up and down the Quartermaine driveway.

"My pregnancy and abortion for one," Lulu admitted, as Dante's gaze focused on her, "You were young. It wasn't-"

"Just hear me out," Lulu continued, her fingertip brushing his cheek, as she tried to gather the courage to proceed, "For the first time in my life I knew I was the center of my Dad's world. He was there for me. He supported me. He loved me."

"But, then he left," Dante said, realizing what that must have done to her, the feelings of abandonment that had overcome her.

"I was in a bad place. I met Logan-" Lulu paused, her eyes misting and her focus anywhere, but Dante's face.

"Your ex-boyfriend?" Dante said softly, lifting her chin and holding her focus on him, "The guy in the military."

"Logan was perfect at first. Everything that I thought that I needed. I loved him. What I thought was love," Lulu whispered, her hand reaching for Dante's, holding it in her grip.

"Something changed. Things that seem irrelevant now," Lulu continued, thinking of how much she hated Maxie all those years ago. She smiled, knowing with every bone in her body that Maxie was like a sister to her now, that she'd do anything for her. The smile dropped from her face, as she began once again. "I found out some things that made me see Logan in a different light. I broke up with him. Then, I met Johnny."

"I still don't get what you saw in him," Dante told her, shaking his head.

"I knew a different Johnny. A boy who wanted nothing more than to please his father. He was looking for acceptance. I understood that."

"And you fell in love with him?" Dante asked, uncomfortable. He knew Lulu loved him, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy when he thought of Johnny Zacchara dating his girlfriend.

"In love? No. Not the kind I found with you. Not even close," Lulu whispered, placing a soft kiss upon Dante's lips.

"Johnny and I were there for each other. We supplied a need for a time. One I didn't know I was missing. It was a crush, not love. I know that now."

"So, what does Johnny and Logan have to do with the relationship you have with your Dad," Dante asked, a part of him, a bit relieved to hear Lulu discount her past with Johnny.

"Logan didn't like that I was seeing Johnny. In fact he hated it," Lulu shared, her eyes becoming distant once more.

"It changed him. He became desperate. Something happened. I was waiting at Johnny's and...I saw."

"Saw what?" Dante asked, concerned, his hand holding tightly to Lulu's.

"He attacked someone close to me," Lulu wept, "I didn't know what to do. I never thought that he'd-"

"That he'd what?" Dante questioned, leaning closer, his eyes focused on the fear in Lulu's eyes.

"The man that showed up at Johnny's apartment that night wasn't Logan, not the Logan I knew."

"Lulu-"

"He tried to...Dante, he...I was terrified," Lulu explained, a great weight lifted off her shoulders, as she shared her final secret with Dante, "I tried to get away. It was an accident. Logan died."

"Jesus," Dante replied, pulling Lulu into his arms and holding her close, "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Dante told her, his arms rubbing her back.

"I wanted to tell you for so long," Lulu cried, her tears falling on his shoulder, "but, I didn't know how. I couldn't handle Logan's death. Johnny took care of everything."

"He covered for you," Dante answered, feeling the tiniest ounce of gratitude to a man that had shielded Lulu from a horrific experience.

"He lied, yes. He probably thought he was helping. I started to see things, Dante. Logan," Lulu confessed, waiting for a look of horror to appear on his face. When his expression remained one of concern, she continued, "Then there was the trial."

"Lulu-"

"It only got worse. I don't want to go into it right now, but Dante, he was there. My Dad. I was in a crazy place and he brought me back. He did that. He loves me, Dante. I know he does. I just need to find him. To remind him."

"Baby, I love you," Dante expressed, holding her tightly, "I'm just worried you're going to get your heart broken."

"I'll find him, Dante. I will. He'll return. I know he will," Lulu said, confidently, resting her head against Dante's chest, "He was there for me. I need to be there for him."

* * *

><p>"You shouldn't be here," Gabby told the man, holding her door slightly closed, as he pushed his way inside.<p>

"Sweetcakes, you know you missed me," he answered, grinning, as he held a glass and bottle of whiskey in one hand.

"Someone's been asking questions about you," Gabby answered angrily, her hand on her hip, "A young woman."

"About me?" he answered, unsteady on his feet, as he poured the whiskey into a glass, the liquid sloshing over, as he handed it to her.

He tilted the bottle back, letting the warm liquid numb his senses, "A young woman named Lulu."

Luke Spencer nearly choked on the whiskey, his reddened eyes suddenly more alert, "Here?"


End file.
